Not Alone
by ILOVEJESSENGLAND
Summary: Set very soon after the events in 'Avengers Assemble', Hawkeye is still struggling after being possessed by Loki, but tries to keep it from the team.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Avengers characters.

Not Alone

_**Blue light poured across the room, crackling like lighting as it went, but also flowing smoothly like a stream. It raced forwards, an opening forming at the other end, created out of nowhere, as the light continued to gush in a circular motion around the black hole.**_

'_I see why Fury chose you to guard it.'_

Clint bolted upright, crouching at the head of the bed, one hand firmly clutching a small pistol and the other tightly grasping a pillow in front of the gun. His eyes manically scanned the room, before he was satisfied that he was alone and safe. Dropping his arms, he took deep calming breaths. The cold morning air burned as it raced into his lungs, and he realised he had been holding his breath, although he wasn't sure for how long. Still in a crouched position he lowered his head into his hands, both still filled. With a deep sigh he returned the pillow to its spot on the bed, and slid the pistol back under it. Using his arms, he pivoted his body, swinging his legs off the bed and landing silently on his feet.

'_I've been hanging around Nat too much,'_ he grinned to himself, as he walked over to the en-suite bathroom. He tugged thoughtlessly at the light switch and made his way over to the ridiculously lavish sink. Even though he had asked Tony for a basic room, what the billionaire had provided was far too luxurious for Clint's liking, but he wasn't one to be rude, after all Tony was housing him. Twisting the cold tap, he hunched over and splashed the soothing liquid onto his face, before planting his hands on the edge of the sink and staring at his reflection. A thin layer of sweat rested on top of his arms and chest, his hair was ruffled beyond taming, and his eyes were slightly bloodshot.

'_Get a grip Barton,'_ he mentally scolded himself, before grabbing his toothbrush and applying a large dollop of some ridiculously expensive toothpaste to the bristles. Absentmindedly brushing his teeth, he walked back into the bedroom and towards the looming wardrobe. As he reached to open it, the door sprang to life, and automatically slid aside, revealing a collection of clothing that looked pretty meagre compared to the oversized house it was contained in.

"Keep forgetting Stark runs this place on electrics," Clint muttered to himself as he surveyed his outfit options. Most of his clothing consisted of suits, many of which Fury had made Nat help him pick out for missions; and apart from those and his other 'suit'. Clint's everyday clothing items were pretty basic. He was just pulling a plain black t-shirt down over his chest when Jarvis' voice boomed from the ceiling and the walls,

"Good Morning Sir. The room you asked me to reserve for you is available for use whenever you are ready."

Startled Clint put a hand to his heart, and looked up at the ceiling,

"Thanks Jarvis, I'll be down there in a sec."

Shaking his head at his quickened pulse, Clint grabbed a pair of grey sweats, and swiftly put them on while he rinsed him toothbrush and mouth out.

'_I don't think I'll ever get used to Jarvis' voice sneaking up on me,'_ he smiled as he thought of the only other person who possessed the ability to do that also. Hurriedly slipping on a pair of trainers, Clint grabbed the gym bag that was always packed from the chair it had been resting on and left his room.


	2. Chapter 2

As Clint quietly padded his way along the carpeted corridor, he stared blankly out of the glass panel wall to his left, watching the hustle and bustle of the streets of New York City below. He reached the elevator without running into any of the others, a fact he was glad of this morning. He had been unsure about the individual floors that each Avenger had been assigned in Stark Tower to begin with, but recently he was finding it a God send, not that he'd tell Tony that,

'_Pretty sure Stark already has a God complex as it is, without me confirming it'_.

Some days he felt he could face his teammates, and others, like today he internally hoped to avoid them at all costs. It had been this way since he had re-awoken from Loki's grasp in a holding cell aboard the helicarrier; however the distraction of war and the evermore welcome distraction of puncturing something vital of Loki's with an arrow, had forced him not to focus on it at the time. Sadly the later hadn't happened, although the demi-god had been battered significantly enough by the Hulk to bring a small smile to Clint's lips; and without the diversion of battle, the reality of Clint's actions had caught up with him once more. It wasn't that his friends held him accountable; in fact they had all been more than understanding and had tried to accommodate any help that Clint might need from them. That was the worst part, the fact that they had all treated him like he might mentally fall apart at any moment. Except for Natasha of course, she'd continued to train with him, not giving him any breaks and whooping his ass for weeks until he was back on top form.

As he watched the elevator indicator counting down floor numbers, Clint smiled to himself. While the rooms on each Avenger's separate floor were decorated tastefully in mostly neutrals, allowing for each individual to add what they liked; the corridor and elevator for each Avenger was a different matter. Clint suspected that this was the only part of the decorating for each floor that Pepper had allowed Tony to undertake, and boy had he taken the most of that opportunity. Clint's own corridor was decorated in a variety of purple shades, ranging from lavender on the ceiling, to the dark maroon of his uniform on the carpet. Along the wall to Clint's right arrow targets were printed onto the wall, which Natasha had once smirked that he should really use for practice to wind Tony up. But the part which always cracked Clint up was the personalised noise the elevator made when it stopped on each floor, his own being a cartoon version of a bow string being pulled back and an arrow being released. Clint didn't mind the decorations too much unlike some of the others. Steve had rolled his eyes at the over the top, blue white and red of his corridor, especially combined with the 'Captain America' theme tune the elevator played at his level; and Natasha had not been particularly impressed with the red that was painted all around her level, although Clint understood that, after what she had told him in that holding cell,

'_I've got red in my ledger…'_

He smiled at the all too familiar arrow noise that rang about his ears as the elevator doors opened. Sometimes he and Natasha would impersonate the noises, her pulling a pretend arrow back and releasing it towards him as she stepped backwards through the opening doors, and he pointing his hands into two pistols, pretending to shoot at her and rolling into the waiting elevator, when they were on her floor. Today however he stepped normally into the lift and pressed one of the buttons, before he began stretching his arms and legs as he waited to descend the floors. He missed Natasha when she was away on private missions; it was one of the main problems he had had about the team living in such close proximity,

'_You can get too used to each other being around….'_

Natasha was almost always on his floor since they had moved in, he suspected it either had something to do with the colour scheme of her own floor, or she was keeping an eye on him, but he knew better than to ask. Clint shook the concern from his mind, as the elevator stopped at the main living quarters that all of the team shared. Sighing heavily, Clint picked up his gym bag from where he had dropped it and walked into the kitchen. It was still early, he noticed; glancing up at the clock as he grabbed a water bottle and began to fill it with ice cubes and cold water, which explained the empty kitchen; nobody usually seemed to be up and about before 8 am. As he turned the tap off, Clint recognised the soft sound of footsteps approaching, and hurriedly screwed the cap back onto his water bottle. As he twisted back around to leave, Steve was just turning the corner into the kitchen area. He was wearing a similar outfit to Clint's, only with a towel added over his shoulders, and looked slightly flushed and sweaty, and as his eyes flickered from the water bottle in Clint's hand to the gym bag hanging over his shoulder, Steve threw a smile at Clint,

"Early workout session planned?"

Clint nodded, pointing at the towel hung around Steve's neck,

"Seems I wasn't alone in that plan Cap," Clint managed to throw back a smile he had perfected after years of undercover work. Steve grabbed a glass from the side and gulped down the refreshing liquid, before grabbing a banana from a nearby fruit bowl and beginning to peel it,

"I can help you spar in a little while if you like?"

"Na you're alright thanks Cap," Clint shook his head gently with the smile still in place, "I was heading to Nat's gym anyway, but thanks."

Steve raised an eyebrow at Clint, and looked like he was about to say something more, but luckily for Clint he currently had a mouthful of banana. Throwing a joking salute at his teammate, Clint briskly made his way back to the elevator, and quickly hopped inside.


	3. Chapter 3

The combat training level was the lowest of the floors that all of the Avengers used, and had several rooms that Tony had modified to suit the training needs of each individual member of the team, but the main room that made up this level was the gymnasium that they all shared. Well, all of the men. Fury had assigned Natasha her own gym within the first week of the team all living together, based on the fact that she had apparently provided too much of a distraction to the others, not that it had really stopped her from using the main gym. Clint knew better, and suspected that the real reason for the 'ladies gym' had been that Fury had given Natasha a space to blow off some steam instead of pounding Stark when he inevitably pissed her off. Either that, or the SHIELD Director had gotten tired of Tony moaning in his ear about how Natasha continuously handed his ass to him on a plate while combat training.

As the elevator stopped at the training level, the doors opened to a small rendition of 'Kung Fu Fighting', and Clint hummed along with the tune idly as he made his way past the first gym. A punch bag was dangling precariously from the ceiling as he passed, but it wasn't much of a surprise. Ever since the battle for New York, there had always seemed to be some amount of damaged gym equipment as a result of one of the team members relieving the events. Clint himself had been the cause of a lot of broken apparatus, but nothing as spectacular as Steve could manage. Carrying on down the corridor, Clint stopped at a smaller set of doors, and made his way into Natasha's gym. It was definitely more compact than the other gymnasium; however the beams and bars that raced up to the ceiling above showed this room to be taller than the other training area. He walked past the boxing ring and punch bag, mentally noting to use the latter soon, and chucked his gym bag onto a bench. He noticed that Natasha had left out a variety of targets, which was unusual for her,

'_She knew I'd be paying this room a visit.'_

He grinned to himself as he retrieved a training bow from the weapons cabinet and aimed a few deadly shots at the moving targets. The bow was lighter than his own, and not nearly as powerful, but it would do. It felt new to touch, though Clint knew that Natasha used it occasionally. SHIELD encouraged it's agents to train with all kinds of weapons, as in a pinch they'd need to use whatever was at hand. Clint and Natasha had tried to teach each other their different marksman qualities, but both hadn't quite excelled as much as they did with their original weapon choices, and as such had primarily stuck to pistols and a bow respectively. After notching a flurry of arrows into the head area of the last target, Clint returned the bow back to its place among the weapons, still feeling frustrated. Making his way across the gym, he reached into his gym kit, and retrieved a pair of bandages, and expertly began winding them around his knuckles. His punches came slow at first, rhythmically hitting into the hard surface of the punch bag. But his anger flared as he closed his eyes, all he could picture in his mind was those icy blue eyes staring at him. **Into **him. His jabs came quicker now, his breathing turning into shallow pants.

'_I want to know everything you can tell me about this team of his'._

And he had. Clint's blows matched the speed of the images rapidly flashing through his brain; how he had rattled off details about each team member to Loki without hesitation. He knew he shouldn't blame himself, but the memories flooding his eyes told him otherwise. Some of the team's members he had not revealed much about, only being able to inform the Frost Giant about what SHIELD's files contained on Banner and Rogers. Loki had obviously not needed any information concerning Thor, which was useful, as Clint had little information on the Demi-God also, regardless of the fact that he was the only one out of those three that Clint had personally encountered. But Natasha; Clint's stomach tightened. Clint had listed off all the personal data on her he could remember; her previous targets, her weaknesses, her strengths. Her past.

'_I would….test…their metal.'_

A crunching noise, accompanied with a dagger of pain, forced Clint's eyes wide open. He winced as he removed his knuckles from the punch bag and inspected them. He knew he had been punching hard, but he had been oblivious to the strength behind his anger that had created a bruised and bloodied mess where his knuckles usually were. He surveyed the damage closer, and was relieved to discover no brakes or dislocations.

'_That would have really pissed Nat off…'_

Dangling his legs over the edge of the platform, Clint swung them idly as he stared up at the cloudless sky. Tony would often joke about how Clint's codename was the most apt of all the team due to his extreme fondness for perching on the roof whenever he wanted to hide away from the others.

'_And yet, whenever you come looking for me up here, can't find me can you Stark?'_

Clint grinned to himself as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the cool breeze. While Tony was technically correct that he sometimes used the roof to get away from everything, Clint's nest on the roof was actually a platform slightly lower than the roof level hanging off one side of Stark tower. He had lots of various nests around SHIELD headquarters and now Stark's, but this one was his favourite, and the only one that none of the others had managed to discover.

_**Clink!**_

Clint's eyes fluttered open at the sound. Slowly swinging his foot back in the exact same motion he listened carefully, and as his foot connected with a hard object,

_**Clink!**_

Eyebrows furrowed, Clint sat upright, and swung his legs up on to the concrete platform in one swift motion that left him lying on his stomach with his head hanging over the edge of the nest. He could see something dark attached to the bottom of the concrete, and grimacing at the pain coursing through his knuckles ,he adjusted the grip of his hand to support himself and he reached one arm under the platform to investigate the mysterious object further. The object felt cold and hard to his touch, and came away surprisingly easy considering it had been suspended from the bottom of a ledge, hanging off the side of on one of the tallest buildings Clint had encountered. Rearranging into a cross-legged sitting position, Clint surveyed his retrieval closely; it appeared to be just an ordinary black canvas bag. Disappointed, he tipped the bag upside down, and allowed the contents to spill out beside him. Immediately he knew the culprit, as two small black pistols span slightly as they slid from the bag onto the concrete.

'_How the hell did you smuggle these up here Nat…'_

As Clint tried to figure out how his partner had discovered his latest nest, he carried on emptying the bag,

'_Bingo! Now that's more like it Red.'_

Shuffling the bottle from hand to hand while inspecting it Clint smiled and shook his head simultaneously. Sometimes having a partner like Nat paid off, as he was now holding a bottle of Jack, which only she; well, and Coulson, really knew that he was particularly partial to. Twisting the cap, Clint noticed a bright flash of neon yellow on the bottle. Moving the bottle to see the post-it note better Clint began reading,

'For Blue Skies. A little something to help wash away that awful taste he left behind.'

Clint lifted one corner of his mouth into a smile, as he peeled the note away from the glass bottle. He shouldn't have really been surprised that Nat knew about his secret nest, after all she seemed to be almost as good as him when it came to sneaking. As he put the note down with the pistols, Clint noticed another scribble of writing on the underside of the paper out of the corner of his eye,

You're not alone Clint'

Leaning back against the wall of the tower, Clint raised the bottle towards the sky while nodding his head in a cheers notion,

"Ypa Nat!"


	4. Chapter 4

The glass had hardly touched his lips when Clint caught sight of the flashing light in his peripheral. Twisting his head before the noise activation had even begun; Clint stared blankly at his Avengers card, before realisation set in,

'_Nat….'_

Clint had the cap screwed back on and the bottle and guns returned to their hiding place before he even comprehended that his body was moving. Still leaning off the ledge, Clint bettered his grip on the concrete, before heaving his body over the edge of the platform so that he was hanging by one arm. Swinging himself to build momentum, Clint released his hand from the platform and jumped towards the wall of Stark Tower, his fingers digging into either side of an elevated ridge that ran down the side of the building. Clint had pre-planned this escape route before, just in case.

'_Guess working for SHIELD brings out the paranoia in me..'_

Handily, Clint's route was designed to bring him directly to the Avenger's meeting room. Originally an office, Tony had relocated it into the team's unofficial briefing and debriefing room for missions. It was there that Tony had also unveiled his latest invention of the team's Avengers cards; a thin sheet of electrical powered, shatter-proof glass, which not only contained comms devices, but also a tracking beacon that each member of the team could activate to notify the others of their location. Clint climbed down the ridge expertly but his fingers felt numb as he moved, and although he was moving speedily, the path he had memorised seemed to carry on forever, until he reached the open window for the meeting room. As he slid in through the glass panel, the lights activated, causing Clint's heart to sink slightly, as it alerted him to the fact that he was the first one to arrive.

'_Guess my shortcut works then.'_

Temporarily blinded, Clint grabbed the back of one of the huge leather chairs which ran along both sides of the oversized glass table and paced a short line behind the seat as his eyes adjusted to the lights.

"Definitely more chimp than human…steady there Robin Hood"

Clint grinned at the familiar voice, and turned to face the huge screens that made up of one the walls. Even though his eyes were still focusing there was no mistaking Tony Stark's face, with trademark smug look in place on one half of the screens.

"You are aware that Robin Hood stole from the rich Stark…?"

He suppressed a laugh as the smugness from Tony's face drained away at his jesting threat, and was replaced with a suspicious look which he directed at the archer. Before Tony could offer a retort back, the door opened, and Clint raised his head to watch as Steve and Bruce joined him. It was just the three men at the tower, Tony was off on a business trip with Pepper, hence the video feed; Thor was currently on Asguard but had assured the others before he had left that he would not be gone long, and Nat…

'_Nat's gone off on some solo mission to god-knows where…'_

Steve inclined his head to nod at Clint as he sat down, and Bruce offered a small smile in his direction, both of which Clint returned, masking the dwelling beginnings of panic over his partner. The other half of the wall screen blinked to life, and the three Avengers were greeted with Nick Fury's face. The director looked stern, although no more than usual, Clint noted to himself with momentary relief.

'_Although an agent in trouble is run of the mill for Fury….'_

"Gentlemen," Fury gave his standard greeting to the group, "I presume you all receive the distress signal on your team cards." It was more of a statement than a question, as everyone already knew the answer. Clint took a deep breath, attempting to decide whether to ask what he feared,

'_Is it Nat?'_

"Whose card was activated Sir?"

'_Better. Keep those emotions in check. You don't know what's happened yet,'_ although his self-reassurances were falling flat.

Fury directed the gaze of his good eye to look at Clint, and the look made his stomach catch in his throat.

"The tracking signal is being received from Romanoff's device."

'_Crap.'_ Clint felt his stomach drop at the words, but he remained composed. Feeling all eyes fall on him, Clint never removed his away from his superior.

"Where?"

"Agent Romanoff's latest mission destination was in the Canadian Rockies. We've traced the signal to a research facility there, the co-ordinates have been forwarded to the jet already, and you Stark."

"I'll see you guys there then, "Tony's huge head on the screen nodded, as he turned away from them and disconnected, no doubt off to make his excuses to Pepper before suiting up.

"Good luck Avengers." Fury signed off too, leaving the three men alone. Clint could still feel the others looking at him, and without gazing in their direction, he began making his way to the door,

"Meet you in the jet."

Clint was practically sprinting down the halls to reach the elevator. He hardly heard the elevator noises as he clambered in and pressed the button with the bow and arrow symbol on it.

'_Nat must be in trouble to activate her team card_,'

Clint thought back to when Tony had handed them out to everyone. The others had greeted the cards with enthusiasm, and while Clint and Natasha had seen the usefulness in them, they had both thought of the cards as a true last resort, even behind torture.

'_Guess SHIELD has us well trained in that respect_,' he mused to himself, as the elevator doors separated and he ran down the purple corridor to his room. He knew the others would probably be already on the jet, and likely to be suiting up, as Tony's jet for the team had one of each member's battle suits on-board. Well, for Clint, Nat, Tony and Steve; as Thor's clothing was Asguardian and Tony had had no idea where to begin with that, and Bruce didn't technically have a suit, so Tony had just supplied the jet with numerous amounts of spare clothing for the embarrassed doctor when he de-Hulked and was left buck naked. Pushing open his room door, Clint quickly swiped the box containing his bow and arrows in and began running back down to the elevator.

As Clint finally made his way onto the helipad, he noticed that Steve had started up the jet, but had left the pilot seat free. Aiming a lopsided grin and throwing his bow case at his teammate as he passed him, Clint sat in the pilot chair , quickly glancing at the others who were now strapped in and signalled thumbs up at him, before lifting the jet up into the air.

'_Hang on Nat._'

"So, Star Spangled Man, do we have a plan?" Clint unclipped himself from his seat, and swivelled round to face his team mates. Bruce looked deep in thought, as always, and Steve had his forefinger and thumb placed on his chin as he considered the situation. During the flight, Hill had informed them on the details regarding the facility, well what little details SHIELD had.

"Well, according to Ms…erm** Agent** Hill," Clint and Bruce both smiled slightly, remembering the face that Hill had pulled last time Cap had accidentally politely addressed her as Ms, " There appears to be a few guards posted outside the facility, with the majority of them on the base level…" Steve paused to ponder, "Do we have an ETA from Stark yet?"

Clint stood from his chair to check the incoming transmission on one of the flight deck panels, "Around about 10 mins he reckons."

"Right," Steve pointed at Clint, "you and I will take out the guards at the front from a distance. Then you and Stark can take up top, and Dr. Banner and I can manage the base section," he finished turning to face Bruce who nodded in agreement.

"Let's get this show on the road," Clint approved, opening his bow case and expanding his bow with a small punch into the air. Steve grabbed his shield from where he had left it resting on one of the empty seats, and slid it onto his left arm. Bruce lowered the hatch at the back of the jet, and the three men made their way out onto the snow covered mountains. Clint had parked the jet so it was concealed behind a small peak, allowing them to peer around at the guards without them being noticed.

"There are three out the front that I can see," he reported to the others, switching places with Clint so that the archer could observe them also, "All on ground level."

Steve motioned to Clint, who nodded, and reached over his shoulder and grabbed an ordinary arrow from his quiver.

'_No point wasting anything special on these lackeys_.'

Rolling out sideways from behind their rock cover, Clint strung his bow as he moved, and loosed his arrow in perfect cannon with Steve releasing his shield. Clint's arrow struck one of the guards in the chest, dropping the man backwards into the snow before he could make a sound. A blur of red, white and blue struck one of the guards hard in the head, before bouncing off and connecting with the last guard's nose with a sickening crunching noise. All three men were down as the shield rebounded and sailed silently back on Steve's waiting arm.

Clint frowned slightly at the surprising easiness, and looked up to the sky searching for any sign of Tony.

"Looks like Shellhead is going to be late, as always, Cap," Clint noted quietly as he stood up from his crouching position. Steve was also frowning at the bright white sky, as Bruce made his way over to the others, "Can you take the upper level by yourself until Stark graces us with his presence?"

'_That's my partner in there, try and stop me.'_

Clint smirked in response, "Is Hulk's butt green?"

Bruce raised an amused eyebrow at the assassin, "Would you like to find out?"

Steve rolled his eyes at the jests, and turned to Bruce, "Ready to cause a distraction?"

Bruce removed his shirt, and stepped forwards away from his friends and towards the building. After deciding he was a safe distance, Bruce hunched forwards, expanding and turning green at a rapid pace. Letting out a growl as he fully transformed, the Hulk now stood before Clint and Steve, towering over the two men.

"Well there goes the element of surprise tactic," Clint muttered with a grin to Steve. Steve returned a smile at the quip, before holding his hands around his mouth and calling out, "After you!"

The Hulk turned round to face them briefly, and wide grin spreading across his face, before turning back towards the building and charging at it. A huge hole was left on the nearest facing wall of the facility, and shouts and gunfire could be heard, Steve turned to face Clint a serious look on his face, "Be careful," at the sound of more cries he started running towards the huge gap the Hulk had left, "I'd better stay with Banner to stop him from collapsing the building," he called over his shoulder.

Clint walked over to where the guards had fallen and retrieved his arrow from the man he had hit, wiping it clean before depositing it back into his quiver. Using the device on his bow, he switched his arrow head to grapple. Aiming his bow high, his arrow struck cement just below the roof of the building, and he accelerated up into the air, kicking his way through a panel window on the higher level of the facility. Covering his face from glass shards, Clint rolled with momentum, twisting so that his back was against the wall. He looked left to right, monitoring his surroundings. The corridor he was crouched in was bright white, reminding Clint of a hospital.

'_God I hate hospitals.'_

There were no guards around, although Clint didn't count that as particularly worrying, after all Hulk was putting on a show downstairs,

'_And I imagine that wherever they have Nat she's distracting a few guards too.'_

Clint edged his way along the wall, moving right, as he knew that given a choice both he and Nat went right, and strung an arrow, before peering around the corner.

'_Nothing…odd…'_

Clint's sense of uneasiness grew as he walked down the empty corridor, he could hear the roars and screams from downstairs, but up here there seemed to be no one at all. Cautiously he continued to stalk down the corridor, imagining Natasha taking this route. In his head he visualised that she hadn't had this easy a time though, and he pictured her carrying out her trademark moves on guards. He reached another corner, and with his bow still ready, he once again prepared to peek around the edge, but what he saw made his blood freeze. Running down another empty corridor, Clint slid down on this right leg and skidded to a halt, his bow aimed and ready facing the blind spot around yet another turning. Simultaneously relieved and discomforted by yet another guard-less hallway, Clint diverted his attention to back to the alarming sight that had caught his eye. Instinctively he reached into the dark puddle and turned the black piece of cloth over.

'_Shit.'_

SHIELD's symbol stared up at him from the material. The same symbol which was on the shoulders of Natasha's suit. Clint clenched the material up in his fist, ignoring the stickiness of the dark congealed blood that covered the cloth, and glared towards what he presumed was a camera.

"Don't get too attached to her," His voice came out as a fierce growl, but he ensured it was loud enough for the camera to pick up, "I'll be collecting my partner back from you in a little while."

'_I'm coming Nat.'_


End file.
